Hobo Amerifag And His Famiry
by Cappuccino-Dreams
Summary: Hobo Amerifag decides to visit his dear hobo-fag-family. Again. Are his parents happy to see him or not? Slight PruEng, Prussia/England/America-crack family. Rated T for some language and an innuendo.


**Author's notes:** This is a fanfic I wrote for my best friend as a birthday present 8D It's filled with inside jokes from MeuwCon-03 in Stockholm =u= She cosplayed as America, I was Iggy and we met a Prussia. Apparently we got married, but I/Iggy can't for the love of God remember when and how that happened |D;;

More explanations at the end notes!

**Warnnigs: **Crack, a tad bit of language... And that's about it, I think.

Enjoy!

* * *

I shall now tell you the story of when Hobo Amerifag visited his dear fag parents for the 4539th time in the span of a year.

Once upon a time, Alfred was sitting on a bench, quite literally freezing his arse off. His fire just wouldn't start up! He was hungry too. Sheesh, being a homeless traveller was hard... No, not an outlier, not a bummer, but a homeless traveller. ...Being called "hobo" was okay though. It just clunk nicely, in a way.

Hobo America.

Yes.

Anyway. He was still freezing his arse off, because he didn't have any matches left to light the fire. Oh God, he had to go and steal some matches... The other hobos in the area didn't want to share their all important matches. Bastards. Why didn't he just join them? Because they stunk of alcohol. Ew. Alfred was a somewhat clean and somewhat good-smelling hobo. Of course, it was Alfred. Hobo heroes didn't stink of alcohol. Just... dirt and sweat. And hobo heroes didn't have 5 meter long beards, they just had stubble. Did that mean that Francis was a hobo hero? ...Never mind. He was still hungry too. Oh, what he wouldn't do for a burger from McDonald's right now... He was too tired and hungry to go snatch someone's bag from the drive-in though. Hopefully someone would give him some food if he gave a couple the puppy eyes. It worked quite often! He must be a really cute hobo.

What he didn't know though, was that the couples actually thought he was really creepy and just wanted him to go the fuck away and leave them alone so they could hold hands and make out over a candlelit dinner.

But it was too late now. After all, it was already 1am. He only he had one option left... He was freezing, he was hungry, and the only one he could turn to was... his family. His fag family. He wasn't known as Amerifag for nothing. ...Now Hobo Amerifag. It was a nice name, so the American didn't understand why his hobo companions laughed at it so often. It was a very... heroic name! Yeah! Well Alfred, we'll remember your heroic name, but we really need to get back on topic. Right.

Ahem.

There was only one option left... He had to visit his fag family. His dear momma-fag and his awesome Vater-fag. How long had it been since he last saw them...? Two weeks? Oh my, that was much too long! Yeah, he could indeed go and visit and sleep and eat there. Mhm. And so, the homeless (but in a way not) American made his way to his parents' house. ...It was a ten minute walk from the park he was currently located in.

* * *

"Hi mom, hi dad!"

"You _again_!"

"Nice to see you too, mom."

"Do you know what time it is?"

"Food time!"

A groan and a grumble.

"Just get inside and make a sandwich or two."

"How about twenty?"

"Alfred!"

"He can have some wurst."

"No way, I don't want my kitchen to stink in the middle of the night."

"It stinks 24/7."

"Gilbert!"

"Mom, dad, can I have some food now?"

"Fine! Do and eat as much as you want, you ungrateful wanker!" Stomping and colourful cussing could be heard as the Briton went back to bed.

"Son, next time call beforehand. I was _this_ close to get some sex!"

"Sure dad." He didn't really listen to what he said though, he was too busy wolfing down his third sandwich. Next time he'd probably just barge in and become scarred for life. Again.

* * *

When Arthur woke up he was on the edge of his side of the bed, nearly falling off. Ah, as usual then. He refused to cuddle with his husband, because it always somehow ended up in sex. Speaking of his husband... he was still sleeping, of course. That lazy arse. It was a _rather_ good question of exactly how the hell the two got married. He must've been drunk.

Some shuffling, murmurs of 'West' and 'chick army' and a loud snore could be heard from the other side of the bed.

Definitely drunk.

Gilbert was such a strange man. That must be where Alfred got his strangeness from. Even if Gilbert wasn't his real father. But Francis was strange too, in a another kind of way. He probably got the frog's cooking skills, his food was horrible! British cuisine was the way to go. Arthur, get back to the plot, I want to finish this one tonight, please. Right.

Ah, it seemed that Gilbert had finally awoken. Which meant breakfast. Which meant wurst time. ...That would be have been awesome if Arthur himself was German. He'd simply wait, pretending to sleep while the other would get out of bed as usual-

"Surprise buttsex, waifu!" Arthur instantly felt something, or rather someone, at his back, humping his thigh. Needless to say, he gave off a rather manly shriek at the sudden action.

"GILBERT, YOU BLOODY WANKER!"

"Why yes, I do like to wank~" The Prussian giggled (a manry giggle, of course) and stopped humping his thigh, thank God for that. "Just wanted to wake you up, Schatz~"

"Bugger off Gil, you knew very well that I was already awake." The Briton grumbled as he got out of bed, finding his usual shirt, vest and pants to change into. Something seemed off though... it was rather quiet downstairs. Their son hadn't already left, had he? He usually stayed for at least breakfast. Which meant eating half of their stocked food, and bringing the other half with him when he left. And before breakfast he was always playing video games. He didn't seem like a very typical hobo. Well, he'd better go and check on the prat.

"I'm going to see what Alfred's up to. Get some fuckin' clothes on and make your 'awesome' wursts for breakfast. Again."

"What wurst do you want?" The albino wiggled his eyebrows and smirked widely, as if his tone wasn't suggestive enough.

"Not the one we had last Friday, please." He managed to answer with a straight face and he refused to acknowledge the faint blush adorning his cheek. Gilbert was a master at innuendos, even though he was blunt most of the time. And he'd rather not have kinky sex in the kitchen with Alfred close. He was scarred enough. ...Which meant that he _should_ be used to it now, but you could never be too sure. Arthur worried if the lad had even had proper sex yet. After all, what other dimwit other than Alfred thought that 'rape' meant 'free burgers' in German? Yeah, no one.

* * *

Gilbert pouted at his wife when he left to find their hobo fag son. He really wanted that sex last night... Amerifag visited so damn often anyways. He thought he'd get more sex if he married the Briton, but the American fuckhead always, _always_ got in the way. Fuck, he was such a cockblock. He was also dense and stupid enough to not understand that he was hit on and supposed to be seduced by the Prussian's ministrations. He managed to molest him and also managed to tell him that 'rape' meant 'free burgers' in German since he started to get afraid and suspicious at first. It wasn't his fault the word accidentally slipped from his dirty mouth!

No point in complaining about that now though, the embodiment of awesome was hungry! Gilbird chirped, clearly saying that he was hungry too, of course. So he did the obvious and went to the kitchen to make wurst for breakfast. He didn't bother to put any clothes on though, boxers were enough. However, the sight that greeted him in the kitchen was... adorable.

There Alfred was, sitting in a chair, sleeping with his head and arms on the table. Even the drool trickling down his face was cute. In a way. What made it better was Arthur. Mommy was sitting beside his son, gently patting his head with a surprisingly soft smile grazing his lips. It almost said 'you're so hopeless, son.' Gilbert couldn't help but grin as he went to stand next to his family, the grin turning into a soft smile of his own.

The sweet moment was destroyed by one little, rather loud snore. And a snort, as the American suddenly shot up in his chair, being still half-asleep.

"I DIDN'T STEAL THE TOASTER, I SWEAR."

"..."

Oh, silence. It was broken by a chuckle with the company of a somewhat dark aura.

"So that's where the toaster went. You wouldn't be able to tell me where the mixer, mini-fridge,coffee machine, fryer and my _alcohol stash_ went, now would you, Alfred?"

"O-oi... Calm down waifu. We didn't even need the mini-fridge. And you don't drink coffee."

"But my rum and scotch!" Arthur was kind of cute when frustrated, mortified and panicked in one go.

"Yeah, he probably took my beer too- WAS IT YOU WHO TOOK MY BEER, BURGERBRAIN?" Oh no he didn't! He trusted his son! He became a splendid hobo and whar's the thanks? He takes his beer!

"Did someone say burger?"

That stupid idiot. This only lead to make the married pair more furious and thua chasing him away. Arthur had even found a broomstick somewhere and kept shouting something about 'Get back, you git! Uni, pixies, Flying Mint Bunny! Catch him!' What a crazy old man. Gilbert, however, opted for his ol' trustworthy empty beer bottle, hurling them at his son while screaming at him ot get his beer (and toaster) back.

Alfred? He just kept running with a wide grin on his face. It was hidden behind a loaf of bread that he managed to snatch though, along with dairy and meat products in his backpack and potatoes and a bag of rice in his arms. Ah, it was always so nice to spend time with your family.

And so, dear friends, does normal family time with the fag family look like.

_**Happy Birthday, faggert 3**_

2010-09-15

* * *

**End notes:**

**About the fag:** I randomly started to call my best friend for Amerifag.

**About the hobo:** She had a bag, which got dirty and ripped and worn after the second day, so it was called hobo-bag. It belonged to Amerifag, thus Hobo Amerifag.

**About the family:** Iggys is the dad/mum, yeah? He was together with France, but then got married with Gilbert, so Gilbo is America's step-Vati. Which means that we are hobo-mum and hobo-Vati and fags |D And yes, mon husby calls me "waifu"~


End file.
